All That You Waited For
by lostrocket
Summary: Rhett and Scarlett's wedding night, a companion story to "Leave a Light On." I wrote this for Valentine's Day, but it's a bittersweet present. Warnings apply.


_This story begins with a scene that is shown as a flashback in Chapter 16 of my sequel story "Leave a Light On." You do not need to read that story for this to make sense; it is completely contained within the GWTW canon and does not attempt to alter the course of the novel._ _This story is rated M for sexual content of Scarlett and Rhett's wedding night. Please skip it if such things offend you._

 ** _Warnings: sexual content, dubious consent, M-rated_**

...

 _Cause all I want to be is the minute that you hold me in_

 _When you pretend that I'm all that you waited for_

\- Matt Nathanson, "Suspended"

...

The train rolled through the night, crossing Alabama. The beds had been folded down for sleep, but Scarlett crouched on the covers with her face pressed to the window. One small white hand clutched the velvet tasseled curtain up and out of the way. As she knelt, the voluminous folds of her plain, heavy nightdress billowed around her hips, hiding most of her form from Rhett's eager eyes. He had wanted her longer than he'd ever wanted any other woman, and he was done with waiting. Rhett bent over the bed and closed his hand around hers.

"It's late, my dear," he said, pulling her hand from the curtain.

"Oh, but Rhett," she started, but her voice wobbled and faltered as he ran his hand up her arm, pushing the sleeve so he could feel her soft skin under his palm. No more waiting.

Scarlett's eyes were focused on his hand. He followed her gaze and marveled at the differences between them. His large, brown hand, the back sprinkled with coarse black hair, stood out starkly against pale magnolia-white skin. His hand could easily encircle her upper arm. He did just that, slipping his fingers along the tenderest, softest skin inside her bicep. His fingertips touched, and the backs of his fingers grazed the side of her breast. He could almost see her nipples tightening as the peaks became visible under the bosom of her nightdress.

Suddenly she turned away, back to the window, and her voice trembled. "It's so fascinating to see - to see all the...the farms..." she stuttered, and faltered again.

Rhett chuckled. "How Irish of you, my pet." He saw her shoulders stiffen but she did not rebuke him. His brows came together in a swift frown; how unlike Scarlett not to respond to the promise of a quarrel. He sat on the bed suddenly, and tugged her arm, urging her around to face him. She resisted for a moment before turning, and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

Scarlett Hamilton Kennedy Butler, on her third husband, the belle of Clayton County and the biggest flirt in Atlanta, turned her incomparable green eyes up to him, wide and anxious. She shrugged again, trying to pull her arm out of his hold.

"Scarlett, honey, what's the matter?" Rhett whispered, not letting her go. He wasn't sure if he expected an answer or not. She tried to toss her head and laugh, but the sound was forced and hurt his ears.

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett..."

Rhett stared at her for a moment, fighting to keep his face smooth, fighting to keep his own self hidden from her. He'd never thought-

Moving quickly, he scooped her up into his arms and held her on his lap at the edge of the bed. She shrieked in protest and pushed at his chest, but it was weak and half-hearted. Certainly she had shown she was capable of a much stronger fight the night he had driven up to Aunt Pitty's to cart her out of Atlanta.

Rhett rested his cheek on her smooth black head. "Didn't I promise you marriage to me would be fun?" She nodded, and her thick straight hair scratched his chin. "I intend to keep that promise, my pet." He raised a hand to run it soothingly over her hair, slid it easily from the long tresses to her slim waist. "Kissing me is fun, isn't it?"

"Rhett!" she protested. "It's not - seemly..."

"But it's fun," he persisted, craning his neck to look her in the face and give her a lopsided grin. It worked; she laughed, the lighthearted sound bearing his own heart up on clouds.

Before the tinkling peals had died away, he captured her mouth with his own, captured her last soft exhale of laughter. He bent her slowly back over his arm, urging her to part her lips and allow him entrance to her mouth; and once granted, his tongue teased hers until, with slow movements that seemed shy but were perhaps merely hesitantly unfamiliar, her own tongue began to respond.

Her slender thighs were as soft as her arms, even softer. Unlike her arms, the skin was hot, burning the palm of his hand which trembled as it slipped under her nightdress. When his thumb grazed the crease where her thigh angled up to her hip, she cried out, arching into him as her legs fell open.

Scarlett pulled back, allowing him to see her flushed face and wild eyes. "What-" she began, then her small fingers clenched around the lapels of his dressing gown as his hand moved over. Under his thumb, she opened like a flower, revealing the wet proof of her arousal to his intrusion. Rhett's throat was suddenly dry. It was overwhelming; the reality of having her in his arms, the evidence of her responsiveness to his kisses and his touch. She was his, at last.

"Rhett," she whimpered, and he covered her mouth again. His kiss was searing and deep, and Scarlett quickly forgot her uncharacteristic timidity in the familiar embrace. Her tongue responded eagerly to his own forays into her mouth, and she curled around him and against him with delicious heat.

Rhett fought hard to keep his control. It would have been easy to lower her to the bed and cover her with his body. Every nerve in him cried out for more, but he resisted. He could not appear too eager lest she wonder if more than lust had motivated their union. Scarlett was not observant, but she was too smart for his own good.

He moved his hand again, gathering her wetness on his finger tips. He drew one finger up to circle the hard bud at the apex of her sex, and she immediately stiffened in his arms. Rhett gentled his mouth against hers, kissing her lips softly, willing her to relax under his touch.

"Oh," she murmured as her hips made a reflexive jerk. Rhett lifted his head and allowed himself the indulgence of examining her unguarded expression. Her eyes were wide, their pale green darkening with lust. Tear drops glistened in the corners, clinging to her thick lashes. Her parted lips were red and swollen, and when she ran her tongue along her bottom lip he stiffened and had to bite back a muttered curse. His most primitive emotions threatened to overrule all common sense.

Rhett lowered his head to kiss her again, and stopped just above her mouth as she moaned and lifted her hips against his hand. "Those other fools you married never touched you like this, did they?" he growled, pulling his head back just enough to look into her eyes. He almost added Ashley Wilkes to the slur, but some higher brain function still prevailed and he said instead, "They never made you feel like this. Gentlemen fools, they had no idea what you were capable of." Rhett only partly meant her body and the blind belief that ladies were above lustful feeling. Foolish ignorance, all of it; but they were ignorant above all about his wife's true nature; her capacity for cruelty but also passion, her hard mind and even harder heart but also the deep vein of feeling he knew her to possess. Tonight was just the beginning. She thought she loved Ashley Wilkes now - but he would open her eyes. They had all night - they had a lifetime.

The thought helped slow the wild sense of urgency that was driving him. He had not expected those men she had married so thoughtlessly to have even been capable of fully awakening Scarlett's passionate nature, but he had not thought to find her so apparently ignorant of pleasure. She had seemed so shy in that moment at the window. This discovery of her nearly virginal lack of knowledge almost made it bearable to know that she had been married before. Here in their private car, leaving the evidence of those marriages far behind, he could indulge himself in the fantasy that she was now, had only ever been, and only ever would be, his. No Charles Hamilton and Wade; no Frank Kennedy and Ella; and above all, no Ashley Wilkes. He would make her forget that man had ever existed for her. Her first two marriages were nothing next to the specter that fool had cast over her heart.

Rhett tightened his grip on Scarlett's body so she was cradled securely against his chest. He stood up in one powerful movement, then slowly lowered her to her feet. Scarlett looked at him, her brow wrinkled, then ducked her head and refused to lift her eyes above his chest. She shivered.

Rhett untied the belt around his waist and tossed his dressing gown aside. His chest was bare under the robe, and Scarlett's quick intake of breath was audible even with the noise of the train all around them. Gently, he cupped her face between his palms and tilted her face up to kiss her. She held herself stiffly, but gradually he felt the tension leaving her. He slid his hands down to her shoulders and squeezed gently as he closed the distance between their bodies. She shivered as his hands moved again, sliding down her biceps and coming to rest around her waist. She was so petite he could completely encircle her, the tips of his middle fingers just brushing each other above the small of her back. Her hips flared generously and as he kneaded them beneath his hands he groaned into her mouth, remembering the way they swayed in her heavy skirts.

He grabbed her nightdress just below her hips, gathering the loose folds into his fists as he drew it up, breaking the kiss to pull it free over her head.

"Lay down," he murmured hoarsely, tossing the filmy cotton away blindly. Scarlett scrambled beneath the covers and he grinned. Rhett reached for the waistband of his trousers, and she turned her head to the wall. Pushing them down and leaving them carelessly on the floor of the train car, Rhett joined her under the covers.

"This won't do at all," he said lightly, plucking at the top hem of the sheets.

"Wh-what?" she stammered breathlessly.

"Come here," he replied, reaching his left arm over her chest to grasp her shoulder and pull her close. She turned her head back and stared at his chin. Rhett chuckled then lowered his mouth to hers.

In a manner that was now familiar, Scarlett stiffened in that instant before his lips brushed hers, then gradually relaxed. Her body softened against his and her right arm crept slowly up around his neck. When her lips began to mold to his, responding to his kiss instead of passively accepting it, he moved his hand from her body to the sheets and shoved them away at the same time as he lifted himself over her. The warmth of his body covered her before cool air could intrude and for a moment, she seemed not to realize what he had done. He knew when the moment was over for her entire body went stiff beneath him.

He would not let her retreat. He could imagine how it must have been for her before, the hurried fumblings under the covers; but he stopped that train of thought before it could go much further. If he really thought about it, he knew they must have hurt her, too, and the rage that kindled in his breast had no place in their bed.

Scarlett tried to turn her head away but Rhett stopped her with a gentle hand against her cheek. He molded her lips beneath his, continuing to kiss her until she relaxed again into passive acceptance. Slowly, as if he stroked the wings of a panicked bird, he traced a hand up her smooth side and cupped her breast in his palm. As he stroked a thumb across the erect point of her nipple, he traced his lips down her throat. Scarlett convulsed beneath him, her body torn between retreating back into stiff tension and the pull of pleasure that his lips and hands were creating. Her chest heaved with her panting breaths, but she lay silent.

Rhett kissed her neck behind her ear then traced a hot path down her throat as he gently pinched her nipple. He lightly sunk his teeth into the curve where her neck met her shoulder, and his mouth softened into an amused grin as she gasped and twisted beneath him. He trailed kisses from her shoulder to the soft rise of her breast. When he released her nipple from his fingers only to take it into his mouth, she cried out. Her hands pushed against his shoulders even as her back arced up, offering her smooth skin to his lips and tongue.

"Rhett, what are you - you can't - this isn't-"

Scarlett's hands scrabbled for some sort of grip on his shoulders, but his skin was smooth with a fine sheen of sweat. He decided to ignore her protests, as his mouth had found a much more pleasurable occupation than even a war of words with his prickly bride.

She was giving in, he could feel it. Her upper body was relaxing into the mattress, and her tightly clenched thighs slipped just a little. He took the opportunity to press his advantage, slipping his thighs between hers with slow insistence. She opened for him until he came to rest in the cradle of her hips.

Rhett dropped his forehead down on her chest, stifling a moan. She was warm, still wet; it was almost more than he could manage not to finish this in one mad rush to his own release. He took a deep breath and once he felt sure of his composure, he lifted his head.

Scarlett's cheeks were flushed red and her eyes glittered like the stones on that damned gaudy ring. The flush continued down her chest, fading delicately where her breasts rose in graceful curves. Her skin was pale, especially in contrast to his own, dark and swarthy where their bodies met. Rhett cupped a breast, rotating his hand as he admired the difference between them. He brushed his thumb over her nipple. They were darker than he had expected, a deep rose that responded just as passionately as the rest of her, tightening to press proudly into the cup of his palm.

Every inch of her was as beautiful as he had always expected. _At last_ , he thought.

"What?" Scarlett murmured. _Damn it_ , he must have said that out loud.

"At last," he repeated, twisting his lips into a smirk. "I have you where I have always wanted you - in my bed."

Scarlett blanched, the passionate color which had suffused her cheeks disappearing entirely. Rhett forced himself to laugh at her, even as his heart stabbed painfully in his chest.

"Don't look so surprised, my pet. Didn't I tell you years ago that I wanted you more than I have ever wanted a woman? And why shouldn't I be pleased to have you - _at last_?"

"You are vile, Rhett Butler," Scarlett spat. He took the insult with cool patience, as no more than his due - and no more than the plain truth. But when she began to try and wiggle away from him, he pinned her with his hips and one hand on her small shoulder. The rest of his weight he took on his left hand, palm-down on the mattress. He didn't want to crush her - just keep her.

"Be that as it may, I am your husband now. I won't give you an opportunity to seek an annulment - it's too late to take this back, Scarlett." His words came out more fiercely than he had intended, but as was so often the case, Scarlett's inability to read another person saved him.

The fragile moment of tender emotion had passed, and he had destroyed it with his thoughtless utterance. Marriage to Scarlett - bedding Scarlett - he was beginning to realize it would all be far more difficult than he had expected. He told himself there would be more moments - many more of them, night after night in her bed, in this cocoon of cotton and moonlight that was theirs alone, more than enough time to draw Ashley from her mind like poison from a wound. He had not made the most of this first opportunity - but it was not nearly the last.

Rhett kissed her, moving his hand from her shoulder to her cheek to keep her close when she tried to turn her head. Her lips remained tightly sealed against him. _God damn it_. Everything had gone so well until his slip and the jeering words he had been forced to use to throw her off.

He lowered his head to her neck instead, abandoning her unwilling mouth. He used his hand on her face to tip her head to one side, giving him more access to the long white column of skin. Although she kept her body still even as his tongue traced the whorls of her ear, he could hear her panting breaths. She was trying to hide it, but she still desired him.

To be sure, he released her head and ran his hand down her body. Her nipples had softened, but after he brushed his thumb over one and pinched it gently, it remained standing at attention. He gave both her breasts the same attention before sliding his hand down her belly. She trembled under his touch. He lifted his head from her neck to watch her face as he slipped a long finger between her thighs. Her eyes widened in shocked surprise and her mouth parted in a brief 'O' of confusion and pleasure before she pressed her lips tightly back together. No matter. He could feel that she was still ready for him. If nothing else, he would not hurt her as Hamilton or Kennedy must have done.

He took himself in hand and guided himself into her. Scarlett closed her eyes and turned her head. He stopped. This was nothing at all like he had planned, but he had no idea how to turn it around without exposing far too much of himself to her cruelty. Still, she should at least know some pleasure - come away from this with some bare inkling of the fun he had promised her.

"Scarlett," he whispered, hiding the word safely against the side of her breast before he took her nipple in his mouth. He sucked gently, teased her with light flicks of his tongue, kissed across the valley of white skin to lavish the same treatment on her other breast. Slowly, he pressed on until he was fully seated inside her. For a moment, he rested his forehead between her breasts so he could clench his jaw until the intense pleasure of finally having her became something more bearable.

When he moved, pulling out and rocking back into her, he heard her breathing hitch. It wasn't much, but any sign of a response would have to be enough. Suddenly graceless, he fumbled between their bodies until his fingers found her bud again. When she cried out and arched against him he looked up to see again that look of shocked confusion writ large across her expressive face, before burying his face against the side of her neck. His hips moved relentlessly as he teetered on the edge of control. He had wanted to take her over the edge, to show her the pleasure he knew only he could give her. His harsh words had set their intimacy back without taking any edge off his own vibrant desire for this woman, and he didn't think he had enough time to take her with him. She had begun to respond again, at last, her head moving slightly and her hips lifting, though when he peeked over her throat he could see her fists were clenched around the bedsheets. Why wouldn't she touch him? Was he too coarse, too dirty to besmirch her fine skin? Would she touch Ashley?

A spike of anger bit through his lust and he lifted his hands from her to brace them against the mattress next to her shoulders. His hips jerked spasmodically, driving into her even as his eyes pierced hers until she turned her head away again. She was his now - he would make her his - he would show her-

Rhett himself could not say if that last thought was vengeance or promise. After she had eluded his gaze, he saw her gently take her lower lip between her white teeth in a gesture so innocent, yet so indicative of pleasure, that the sight of it pushed him over the edge. With one last thrust, he released himself inside of her, with a rush of joy so pure he almost shouted to the heavens.

He felt his arms quaver, on the verge of giving out completely, and he carefully lowered himself to lie next to her. He buried his face in the pillow, his left arm and thigh still slung over her body. It had not been all he had hoped for. But surely - surely it couldn't have been all bad, for her?

With a monumental effort, he willed his lethargic body to roll to one side. "Turn over," he muttered, reaching for her even as he spoke. Scarlett rolled to her side as well and, grasping her securely by the waist, he drew her back against his chest. He buried his face in her fragrant hair and inhaled. She smelled like cologne, champagne, even a faint hint of tobacco from his own cigars. The long black strands stuck to his sweaty skin and he gathered the thick bunch of it in one fist and draped it back over his shoulder. He should talk to her. He craved a cigar, at the least, but lacked the strength to stand and find one.

There were so many things he wished he could say to her, but it was not time. Not yet. There would be plenty of time - time to win her over, to secure himself a place in her heart before exposing himself to her. It wasn't perfect - but it was just their first night. He would redeem himself and fulfill his promise yet. For now, he was exhausted, the unexpected power of his emotional release draining him as never before.

"Good night, Scarlett," he mumbled into the pillow. Scarlett's stammering reply went unheard. Rhett was already asleep.


End file.
